A harbinger of spring more reliable than Easter or the Vernal Equinox, the Kenduskeag Steam Canoe Race surges through Bangor this Saturday. It’s among my favorite events of the year. It happens only once, and it marks the divide in the mind’s calendar that puts winter indisputably behind us. After the canoe race, it’s spring for good.

Though I’m a sailor, not a paddler, I love everything about this race: the history, the costumes, the war canoes, the kayaks, the action at Six Mile Falls, the people out along the Kenduskeag Trail watching the racers approach the finish line. I don’t particularly care who wins or loses. No, the most important thing is that it’s spring, and people are outside en masse, maybe for the first time all year.

This year’s forecast calls for sunny skies and mild temperatures – good weather for both paddling and bicycling, which is the best way to see the race. The best thing about bicycling is that you can slide past the parked cars on all sides of Six Mile Falls. If you drive, unless you get there early, you could find yourself spending as much time walking as watching the race.

Still, most people do drive. In my years of river-vulturing, I’ve never seen more than a handful of bicyclists out at Six Mile Falls, or anywhere along the route. Which is too bad, because on a bike you are much more mobile, and can see more of the race. A bicycle travels only marginally faster than a canoe, can stop anywhere, and doesn’t require a parking space.

Nonetheless, canoe racing is, by its nature, a car-intensive sport. You need a vehicle to take the canoe to the start and pick it up at the finish. Presumably many of the cars at Six Mile Falls are such support vehicles. Families with small children have little choice but to come by car. More than a few dogs accompany their owners along the riverbanks; they likely did not get there by running alongside a bicycle.

In 2010, I decided to find out just how many cars there were in the area around Six Mile Falls. At eleven-thirty, approximately mid-race, I took an informal count. From my bicycle I counted 207 cars on both sides of Route 15 north of the bridge, 146 on the side of Route 231 where parking was allowed, and 196 on Route 15 south of the bridge. The Advent Christian Church lot held approximately another hundred; a small side street north of the bridge accommodated another 60 or so. That adds up to more than 700 cars, and some people had already left to follow the race downstream.

How many of those vehicles would a shuttle bus service, run by the city or a private entity or a combination of both, remove from the mix? It seems like a simple thing to set up. Buses could leave from the Airport Mall or the Broadway Shopping Center for Six Mile Falls every half hour during the race. The Capehart route goes as far as Finson Road; maybe race spectators could make a connection to the Falls there.

Perhaps there would be no appreciable difference in traffic, at first. People are used to driving. But it’s an idea at least worth putting on the table, isn’t it? What role can public transportation play in alleviating Bangor’s traffic congestion?

(I confess my tongue is partway in my cheek here. I lived in San Diego from 1983 to 1999. Bangor does not have traffic congestion, at least not in the Californian sense.)

Nonetheless, I’d like to see public buses available for this and other events: concerts at the Waterfront, University of Maine hockey games, elections and caucuses. Traffic gets worse when driving is the only option.

But I’m not trying to throw cold water on one of the most fun events of the year. I’ll be out there on my bicycle enjoying the spills and the sunshine. I doubt I’ll be having as much fun as the participants, though. It makes me want to get a canoe and try the race myself.

One of these years, I’m going to do it – even if I have to prevail upon someone with a car to help me get there.

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I put the bicycle in the basement this week, ahead of the snow that didn’t come. That same day, I met a guy in the post office, girded from head to toe for cold weather in yellow reflective gear. “Do you ride through the winter?” I asked him. He said he did.

I don’t. I’m too old for that s—t. There comes a point when my feet and a heated bus look a whole lot better than a bicycle.

In my box was the latest issue of Portland Magazine, with an article by Jeanee Dudley on year-round bicyclists. I had already begun writing this week’s entry. I guess you know you’re writing about a popular subject when others start writing about it, too.

I admire those hardy souls who bicycle all year. I go as long as I can every autumn, but eventually I surrender to the darkness and the cold. I don’t want to invest in the clothing, for one thing. And I’m scared of slipping on ice.

Fall is difficult for commuter cyclists. The light fails early. The sun is low on the horizon, in the eyes of drivers; cyclists without bright clothing are hard to see. After the time changes, you often find yourself traveling home in the dark. It takes real dedication to continue bicycling through the winter, when conditions are worse.

The bulk of my bicycling is done between Bangor and Orono, which can become a busy corridor in the evening. Sometimes it’s a sea of headlights. I have a flashing red light in the back and a white light in front, and I wear one of those orange and yellow vests the crossing guards use. I don’t see how I could be more visible. But I’ve had harrowing experiences.

One was on Hogan Road, crossing the bridge over Interstate 95 at twilight, going toward the Bangor Mall from Eastern Maine Community College. The bridge has two lanes each way, but just a few feet to the right of the white line on the outside edge of the outside lane. There’s literally no place to go but over the bridge if someone runs you off the road. Which almost happened to me. The driver left me about a foot to spare.

I was glad to see, then, that plans are afoot to fix this interchange. It’s the worst traffic design in Bangor. How are students at EMCC supposed to walk to the mall, which they can see from their dorm rooms? What encourages them to bicycle there? The design of the roadway practically mandates driving – an example of how public policy drives consumer choices.

Is it any wonder people choose to drive, when all the alternatives are perilous? The bridge is no less scary on foot than on bicycle. There’s no footbridge over the Interstate and no footpath underneath it. One of the things we need to do in this country, while we are rebuilding our infrastructure, is to rethink our transportation priorities. Sometimes this can be done without extensive re-building, by removing car lanes in favor of bus and bicycle lanes. Instead of forcing people to drive, policy can begin to nudge people toward alternatives.

Does this make things inconvenient in the short run for habitual drivers? Of course it does. American drivers have grown so used to having the road paved for them that most don’t give a second thought to traffic changes until forced to adapt. But drivers do eventually get used to bike lanes, roundabouts and other improvements that make the roads safer for everyone.

I love to go cross-country skiing in the streets of Bangor during and just after a snowstorm. I’m the most mobile thing on the road. I skied to work at Bangor Metro a few Novembers ago when everyone else was shoveling out cars stuck in driveways. My entire attitude toward snow has changed now that I don’t have to drive in it.

That’s not to say I’m a big fan of winter – I’d rather bicycle home from Orono in the light of a late spring evening that wait for a bus in the dark. But this year the bike went into the basement a month later than last. Now it waits patiently for that first warm day in March.

Winter is the hardest time of year to get around, however you do it. I’ve already slipped and fallen on my butt while walking home. The roads were slick, and Bangor police reported a number of fender-benders. Whether driving, bicycling or walking, be careful out there. A broken ankle, or worse, could be just one slip away.

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As more people discover the convenience and cost savings of commuting by bicycle, we will see more bicycles on the road, especially during the spring, summer and fall. A few intrepid souls continue to bicycle in the winter, but I usually put my bike away when the snow flies. Last year this happened two days after Halloween. In other years I’ve bicycled into December.

My commute is about ten miles, between my home in Bangor and my job at the University of Maine. Frequently I fling my bike onto the rack on the Community Connector bus for the morning trip up to Orono, and bicycle back to Bangor in the late afternoon. Most of the route has wide paved shoulders and good visibility. Drivers, perhaps used to the presence of bicyclists along this primary route between Bangor and UMaine, are almost always courteous and considerate.

The only place I ever have a problem is at the intersection of Route 2 and Kelley Road, pictured above.

Southbound Route 2 splits into two lanes at the intersection. The right lane turns onto Kelley Road, toward the Interstate; the left lane continues straight on toward Bangor. A bicyclist going straight must get out into the left lane, to avoid the cars turning right. A green arrow on the traffic light allows cars to turn without stopping after the light for the left (straight) lane turns red.

Experience has taught me to be super-careful when approaching this intersection. The speed limit through here is 35. A slight rise precedes the intersection, and since I am of, shall we say, a certain age (and don’t wear Spandex), I’m not going fast when I approach the light. Using the side mirror on my left handlebar, I first check to make sure no cars are coming up fast behind me. Then I give a broad arm signal and move from the right side of the road out into the left lane.

Here’s where the problems start. I can’t use the right lane because I would impede the drivers turning right. And if I keep to the far right edge of the left lane, speeding cars will attempt to pass me on the left. I’m in danger of being passed at the same time by a car on either side, neither giving me the three feet of space required by law. I’ve even had cars pass me on the left, then zip in front of me to make the right turn at the light.

This is a classic situation in which the bicyclist must and should “control the lane” in traffic parlance. I need to get out into the middle of the left lane, and any car coming up fast behind me will be unable to pass. I’ll try to do this when the light is red, but if it turns green, I’ve got to keep going. As soon as I’m safely through the intersection, I can move to the right side of the road and allow the car(s) behind me to pass.

I can do everything right – mirror, hand signals, lane control – and still be honked at and yelled at by drivers who apparently don’t want to slow down for a bicyclist, for any reason. Never mind that this necessary maneuver takes at most thirty seconds. In less than that time, I’m though the intersection and back over on the right. Are those few seconds really worth the aggravation?

The danger at that intersection, and intersections like it, stems not from the presence of bicyclists, but from the aggressive behavior of a few drivers. Bicyclists are here to stay, because the option of bicycling rather than driving to work makes sense in many ways and many places for many people. It’s a growing movement, and a beneficial one. As the popularity of bicycling grows, roads become safer for cyclists and drivers alike.

In some areas of the country, municipalities have replaced the vague and generic “Share the Road” signs with signs that read: “Cyclists May Use Full Lane.” But many Maine drivers, unaccustomed to bicycle traffic, don’t know what that means.

Education is part of any worthy movement. Orono probably has more bicycles per capita than most Maine towns; as the seat of the state university, it ought to take a leadership role in things like transportation. A good start would be to put up such a sign on southbound Route 2 at Kelley Road

It might just save somebody’s life.

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